in mathematics, two planes will cross once, or never meet
by lacksley
Summary: Shiro's gone, everyone's gone and Shiro doesn't know how to find them, how to make sure they're taken care of, how to fix this mess he's gotten himself into. He should be panicking, he should be terrified, he should be punching his way out of this blackness." Post "Blackout"—Shiro wakes up. Something's off. A love letter to GoLion. Cross-posted from AO3.
1. escape

_When I wake up I'm afraid, somebody else might take my place._

Shiro dreams of darkness.

Suffocating, enveloping, all surrounding—no matter where he looks he is alone, floating in the void.

Despite this, he doesn't feel afraid. He doesn't feel worried either, though part of him knows he should be. He's gone, everyone's gone and he doesn't know how to find them, how to make sure they're taken care of, how to _fix_ this mess he's gotten himself into. He should be panicking, he should be terrified, he should be punching his way out of this blackness.

He's not.

Selfishly, he feels calm. The tension in his body is gone, his limbs are slack. He can't move. He can't even find the energy to hate himself, for failing them. There's nothing he can do, there's nothing he can do _there's nothing he can do there's nothing_

 _all of them are gone and sucked away into the vacuum of space the cold void of unfeeling monsters and bloody battles and Samuel is already gone and Matt is going to be next and he's going to die in this bloody arena and it's your fault it's all your fault it's all_

gone.

He wants to scream, wants to tear out his hair and sever the false parts of him and open his eyes and _wake up_ but he can't because Shiro knows there's nothing there but that _terrible_ blackness.

He knows there's nothing left of him anymore.

It doesn't feel like his body is there, with his mind. Does he still have it? Or did it disappear with the rest of him?

 _How long has he been here?_

Bones shatter under his not-fist. _He is alone._

Lance smiles at him, tired but happy, and Shiro thinks _this is what it's like to have a family._

Zarkon crushes his throat. _He is alone._

Pidge stares out into space, counting the stars and the ticks since he left and Shiro thinks _I have to get back to them._

This how Sendak must feel. Floating alone in his fragile pod, dead or dreaming, unaware of how close he is to fading out of existence. Shiro did that to him. It's Shiro's fault. Now Shiro shares his fate.

There are a million miles between him and any sort of comfort he could take.

He can see it now; they don't need him anymore.

Keith will grow stronger, he knows. The little bits of himself he saw in the boy are fading as he gets closer to becoming a man. Lance too, is getting stronger.

They are all getting stronger without him.

To Shiro, that's fine. To Takashi, that's fine. Maybe, he thinks, drifting in the void, he'll find Samuel. Maybe he'll find Matt.

Maybe he'll find himself. He can hear them calling…

"Shirogane! Wake up Shirogane!" Someone is shaking him. "Come on Takashi, we're almost there."

Shiro can't remember the last time someone used his first name. His eyes snap open.

The void is gone, and in its stead is the interior of a ship. Someone leans over him, blocking out the harsh overhead light.

It's a face he knows, a face he _thinks_ he knows, aching on the edge of familiar and pleasing and for the life of him he can't recall the person's name. It hits him when they speak, pulling him upright.

"Feeling alright?" Keith asks, shining a penlight in Shiro's eyes. "Exiting cryosleep is always rough, but you were taking a lot longer to come around. The others are all up already."

"I was... I was dreaming."

"What about?" he asks with a practiced air, as though it was standard procedure or something as he presses two fingers to Shiro's pulse. Shiro didn't even know they had cryosleep technology available to them, let alone what Keith should be asking him after he woke up, but he answers just the same.

"I'm not sure."

"Well, your vitals are normal." Keith pinches his cheek with a smile. "Why don't you get up? We're getting close." There's something different about Keith, the way he carries himself. His clothes are different too, Shiro doesn't remember ever seeing that red jumpsuit in his life.

"What happened?" he asks, pulling himself out of the pod. Keith reaches out and smooths Shiro's hair. Bedhead, he guesses.

"Oh, no, everything's fine. We dropped out of lightspeed, as planned, I just thought," he pauses, trying to choose his words carefully. "We've been away for so long, I just wanted to see it together. With you." His smile is soft, and knowing Keith, rare, so Shiro appreciates that he gets to see it.

"Shall we then?" he holds out his hand, which Shiro thinks is a little strange, but he takes it anyways and they enter the cockpit.

"Oi, Chief, we're six minutes out," Lance calls from his seat in the navigator's chair. He doesn't meet Shiro's eyes, which is strange. The nickname too, is something new, and he wants to ask about it but Keith cuts him off.

"Good! Can you get a line to command? I want to make sure they didn't forget about us." Hunk laughs at that, elbowing Pidge, butLance's expression is still humorless.

"I've been hailing them for a while, but haven't heard anything back. I'll keep trying though."

"That's odd, they should be expecting us. Maybe our communications are down?"

Lance shakes his head. "I don't think so. I know we're sending out pings, because I get interference from the solar wind when they bounce back, but when I open a channel for command, I'm not getting an automated response, or a maintenance message, or anything."

"Maybe they switched frequencies and forgot to tell us? Try some other channels." Keith continues to talk shop with Lance and Shiro quickly tunes them out. The tech speak goes over his head; he was trained as a pilot, not a navigator, but he's impressed that Lance has such an impressive grasp of communication technologies.

"Hey, Quiet." Hunk calls, looking at Shiro. Confused, he points to himself, and Hunk rolls his eyes. "Yes, you. You left the cryopod on, it's really wasting coolant we need for re-entry."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'll um..." Hunk looks at him expectantly.

"That's my fault Seidou!" Keith's voice is suddenly in his ear and Shiro jumps at the proximity. "I woke him up, I forgot to turn it off. Quiet, you can help me." Keith pulls him by the hand back into the room he woke up in. There's something off, but Shiro can't quite tell what. He feels strange.

"I always forget to turn these things off," Keith almost says to himself, kneeling down beside Shiro's cryopod. His hand is shaking as he punches a complicated code into the control panel.

"Are you alright?" He lets out a breath, almost a laugh, and meets Shiro's gaze. The energy and control that possessed him earlier fades as he slumps against the side of the chamber.

"Yes. No. I don't know Quiet, I'm a little scared." His voice is small, but Shiro is distracted by the nickname. Hunk had said it to him earlier too.

"Why do you keep calling me that?"

"Right, sorry. I keep forgetting, Takashi. Force of habit, you know how hard it is for me to switch off."

That wasn't the answer Shiro was expecting, and somehow it made him feel worse.

"I..." Keith twists his hands. He pats the ground next to him and Shiro sits. "I wanted to talk to you about this before we got back. If you're..." he sighs. Starts again.

"If you're worried about people finding out, when we get back, I understand and I'm... I'm okay with whatever makes you comfortable, whether that's keeping it secret or— or breaking it off." His voice breaks, and he inhales sharply. There are tears welling in the corners of his eyes and Shiro fights the urge to brush them away. Nothing he's saying makes any sense. "I just don't want you to worry, about what your parents will say, or anything. You worry too much as it is."

"What are you talking about?" Keith's mouth hangs open for a second, shocked.

"I'm— I'm talking about us?" His eyes flick rapidly over Shiro's face. "Takashi you're acting strangely, are you feeling okay?"

"I don't know," Shiro admits. "Everything feels a little off, but we're all okay, right? We're done, we're... going home?" Keith turns away from him, pressing his hand to his eyes.

"Yeah, we're going home," he sniffs. "I'll just... I won't say anything until you decide. But I'm going to need an answer eventually." He's angry, Shiro can tell. He knows him well enough to see that, but he doesn't know why. His brain still feels half frozen from the cryosleep, like he's missing half of what everyone is saying, and his limbs feel sluggish, strange, as though he's grown an inch overnight and hasn't acclimated yet.

"Wh—"

They both start when yells sound from the cockpit.

"Chief, you'd better get in here!" Keith immediately jumps up and dashes out of the room. Shiro follows.

He wishes he hadn't.

The city is destroyed. That's why they couldn't get a response from command, the city is destroyed.

They're all paralyzed in fear, shock, Shiro doesn't know because he can't feel anything because the city isn't a city anymore, it's rubble.

World War III happened while they were away, Hunk says, and Shiro can't accept that, they couldn't have been gone for that long, with Voltron, for the world to deteriorate so quickly.

The rest of the planet could be in worse shape, he doesn't even know if his parents are okay, or if the Garrison is still after him for experiments and interrogation, and he'll never find out because it's gone, it's all gone it's—

"Takashi." A low voice whispering his name brings him back to the present, and it's Keith wrapping his arms around him in a crushing embrace and Shiro tries not to completely break down, Keith is silently crying into his shoulder and he knows because he can feel the dampness on his skin.

There's nothing left to come back to.

He closes his eyes.

They snap back open too soon.

"What are those ships?!" Hunk shouts, and the cockpit is bathed in an eerie yellow light.

"Kogane, get us out of here!" Lance shouts. Keith jumps into the pilot seat and wrenches the controls, trying to break away, but it's useless. They're dead in the air, being pulled towards the unknown.

Shiro vaguely recognizes the vessel reeling them in, even through the yellow haze of the tractor beam.

His heart stops beating, frozen in panic like the rest of him. Not again. He can't live through this again, they can't take him again he just escaped and they're taking him again he can't—

It's the Galra.

Time slows to a crawl as the cargo doors open like a gaping maw, ready to swallow them whole. He barely registers that Keith has taken his hand, that he's saying something, that Pidge is hysterically crying somewhere behind him and Hunk is shouting curses at the ship. His pulse roars in his ears, panicked and quick as though his heart is trying to beat out a lifetime's worth in just a few seconds because he knows that this is it for him.

Shiro knows what's waiting for them.

Shiro can't escape this again.

Shiro shuts down.

The void has come for him again. It dances at the edge of his vision, a tangible difference in space, like a river meeting the ocean. _The water is different here._

It's so cold. He's shivering.

It's been one night, two, maybe five, since they've been taken. Again. They work in the mines; the guards whip them. They fight for scraps of food, drops of water, trying to look too weak to send to the arena.

Shiro has already been here too long. He remembers too well, how to blend in, how to stay alive.

The others are angry, defiant, but Shiro can't muster the mental strength to join them. He can barely talk, barely eat.

Barely feel.

He knows Keith is concerned, feels his worried glances, sees how he gives up half the food he takes to try to make Shiro eat. He wishes that he could reassure him, that it's okay, he's been through this before.

Shiro can endure.

The others cannot.

"... can't last much longer, look at him. If we're going to go, we're going now." Hunk's whisper cuts through the thick silence of their cell. They had been conspiring for the past few days, but Shiro had only really noticed just now. He hunches further over his knees.

"We've barely had this plan for two days and you want to go _now?_ No way, they whip us for _breathing,_ and if we break out we'll be killed instantly." Lance had bucked the most at their enslavement, receiving far too much attention from the armed guards that watched them work. His back was covered in cuts and bruises, and for the first time Shiro wished he wasn't so headstrong. That bull-headedness was going to kill him.

"Kurogane, we don't have a choice." Keith's voice drops even lower when he continues, but Shiro can still hear him. "Just look at him. I can't bear to watch him waste away in here."

Shiro glanced over his shoulder and the others hastily look away, and he realizes they were talking about _him._

Keith comes over to crouch beside him.

"We've got a plan," Keith whispers. "We can steal a ship and get out of this place." Shiro considers his words. The last time he escaped, there was help from the inside. The five of them are alone, but he looks at Lance's hunched posture, feels the brand on his arm, and he knows they can't afford to wait.

"Let's go." His voice is rough, and he stands on shaky feet, but Keith's grip on his shoulder fills him with some kind of energy. _Hope, maybe,_ he thinks.

They break out.

The ship hangar is across the compound from the prison, and they slowly crawl towards it, dodging searchlights and guard patrols.

The pace is torturously slow and every minute they spend pressed into the ground as the light passes over them Shiro is sure they will be discovered and sent to the arena blindfolded and defenseless to be killed as examples.

They aren't.

There are two guards posted outside the hangar, half-asleep, and it's almost comically easy to slip past them.

Inside, they aren't so lucky.

Shiro doesn't realize that they're surrounded until the doors start to close, trapping them inside before they can reach the ships. Keith pulls him through at the last second, and it feels like he's jumped into cold water. The haze slips from his mind.

Shiro feels awake, and he feels afraid.

The first wave of guards go down easy, but the second comes too fast and the third is right on their heels.

"We're running out of time!" he shouts, and Keith grabs his hand and runs. The others follow, he hopes.

They don't have time to look back.

They stumble into the ship and he jumps into the pilot seats with Keith, and hears a shout from behind them.

"Get the doors closed, we're on, _go!_ "

"Do you clowns even know how this thing works?" Lance groans, settling into a chair.

"I can fly anything, Kurogane," and there's humor in Keith's voice but his face is grim, trying to work out the launch sequence by strategically pressing buttons. "I scored higher than you in flight school." Shiro can tell he doesn't actually know what he's doing, and takes the lead. Something passes between them when their gazes meet, an understanding of sorts. Shiro doesn't know what it means. He punches the ignition.

The sudden acceleration presses all of them tightly into their seatbacks. Keith grabs the throttle, but Shiro can tell his trajectory is off.

"Keith, pull _up_! We're going to hit the—" One of the castle towers crumbles against the hull. The dying screams of slaves are so faint Shiro isn't sure if it's just his imagination.

"We've got a tail," Hunk warns. Shiro sees the blips of "friendly" ships on the radar. "Get to battle stations."

"We can't fight, are you _crazy?_ We need to get out of here and we need to get out of here _now_." Lance demands.

"Up there," Keith points out of the viewscreen to a violent swirling mass of dust. Bright flashes of electricity randomly light up the clouds. "We can lose them in that lightning storm." Shiro meets his eyes.

"Be careful," he says, not really knowing why.

"You know I will be," Keith says with a smile. There's a second where he moves toward Shiro in slow motion, and Shiro thinks that he's going to whisper something to him.

Shiro misjudges the trajectory of Keith's lips.

Longing, fear, and something else that makes his heart beat almost _painfully_ seem to flow from the contact of Keith's mouth on his. The kiss is over in a second, probably even less, but Shiro's mouth burns for decades afterwards, that tiny sliver of a moment stretching beyond his experience of time. Shiro doesn't know what makes his chest tighten and burn, but he's sure he shouldn't be feeling whatever it is.

Buffeted by winds and gravity, the stolen slave ship enters the vortex.

"The storm is messing with the systems, I can't get a good reading on anything." Lance still manages to sound haughty, even through his obvious terror. "Do we actually have a destination in mind? Or are we just going to fly around—!"

A blinding flash of light cuts him off and sparks explode out of the ship's control panels, before everything goes dark.

They're spiraling, spinning too fast. Flashes of light illuminate the cockpit and Keith's terrified expression beside him.

 _They're going to crash._

There's a planet in the distance, rapidly approaching, and Shiro isn't sure if they'll even survive entry through the atmosphere. The ship is dead, he pulls on the controls but it's useless, and Keith reaches out to take this hand.

The touch stirs something in him, and maybe it's because they are about to die, maybe it's the g-force making him lightheaded, but Shiro loses control of himself. A strangely familiar presence makes his muscles contract and his limbs move, and he can see his body, face screwed up in discomfort, he's being pulled back in but he can feel his mouth move on it's own, he can see his face turn towards Keith. Pinned to his seat, Keith desperately reaches out, placing the palm of his hand against Shiro's cheek, and Shiro's body meets his gaze and his lips are moving beyond his control, to say one thing before he blacks out and they die alone in space:

"I'm sorry, Akira."

A single tear rolls down Keith's cheek and sparkles in the yellow light that suddenly fills the cockpit.

The ship stabilizes in the tractor beam, and their descent through the atmosphere becomes controlled.

A wretched sigh of relief tears from Shiro's throat as he slams back into his body. Pidge begins to laugh hysterically with Hunk.

Keith doesn't look at him, tears streaming down his face.

"What is that? There, in the distance?" Pidge says. A structure rises out of the fog as they near the surface.

"It's a castle!"

They all saw it. A mysterious castle, a lion statue, and two humanoid figures deep in the mountains of the mysterious planet.

The tractor beam flickers and dies, and the stolen ship crashes into the surface.

* * *

 _I'm talking about quantum realities here. Cracks initiate space-time temporal fissures, which mathematically make higher probabilities for alternate realities..._ —Slav, Escape from Beta Traz

Big thank you to Pugglemuggle for letting me scream at her non-stop for three months.  
I'm on tumblr.


	2. phantom

_I'll make it to the moon if I have to crawl._

The burning pain in Shiro's arm is what finally makes him shiver into awareness. His lungs expand to draw breath and immediately spasm as he chokes on the smoke permeating the air.

 _Why is there smoke why is there pain why—_

He remembers. The ship crashed.

 _They escaped._

Shiro tries to stand, move, and he recognizes the burning pain in his right arm: twisted metal pins him in place. Part of it has sliced into his arm and every rasping cough drives it deeper. The smoke makes his eyes water and he tries to shout for help, _if anyone else even survived,_ but he chokes, lungs full of ash and he can _feel_ the encroaching heat threatening to lick at his wounds.

He can hear movements somewhere around him, mumbling voices and creaking metal, and Shiro wants to call out, scream for them to save him but he can't, he _can't he can't—_

The alien sun hits his face in a pure beam of light, and shadowy figures pull him from the wreckage of the slave ship.

The void has come back for him, and this time he can't close his eyes.

There's nothing but blackness, nothing to touch, no breeze to feel. Shiro's head throbs, and he moves to clutch at the stabbing pain in his skull but his right hand isn't metal, it's _flesh_ and his eyes are pulled to an image that suddenly appears.

Another person— _no_ —a reflection. _His_ reflection, but the man he sees is not the one he's used to seeing in the mirror. The line of his jaw is heavy, his hair is long and black and his face is unscarred, smooth and serious and his hands lower with Shiro's own.

"Shiro," the reflection utters, in a voice that is not quite his own, and reaches his right hand out. Unconsciously Shiro does the same. He can feel the presence of the reflection's fingertips with his own, they're almost touching, and Shiro—

—wakes up, gasping for breath. The air is clear and hot and Hunk smiles from his place at Shiro's side.

"How're you feeling?" he asks, holding out a small cup of water. Shiro takes it, grateful and dehydrated.

"Like I was in a bad plane crash," he finally responds. "How long was I out?" Hunk shrugs.

"Maybe a few hours, I dunno. Don't have a watch or anything but the sun hasn't moved very far."

"The others?"

"Out looking for supplies in the wreckage. We crashed in a desert."

"Why aren't you with them?"

Hunk gestures to his leg. "It looks fine but I can tell you it is _definitely_ broken. Chief and Shorty only have a few scratches, and Moody's eye popped out but he managed to poke it back in himself." He shudders. "I'm not sure if I could have done that if it had been me."

"I guess we're pretty lucky, surviving with so few injuries." Shiro peers out of the makeshift shelter in the shadow of the crashed ship. Then he turns back to Hunk. "Wait, Chief? Moody? Who are you talking about?"

"Jeez, Quiet, don't tell me you have brain damage too. _Chief, Moody,_ you know, Kogane and Kurogane?" Hunk's inflection suddenly makes Shiro's legs feel weaker.

"H-how…" he swallows thickly, mind racing. "You're speaking Japanese?" Hunk's mouth hangs open in obvious confusion, color rising in his sallow cheeks.

"Yes…? I'm a Japanese man aren't I? Quiet are you okay? How many fingers am I holding up?" Shiro waves his hand away.

"I can see just _fine,_ Hunk, but how long—"

"You—" he interrupts, and then glares at the space directly to the left of Shiro's head. A hand suddenly covers Shiro's shoulder and he jerks back to see Keith and the others have returned.

"Good to see you're finally up, Quiet. How is he, Hothead?"

Hunk frowns, shifting his grip on his leg.

"Weird, Chief. He asked if I was speaking Japanese, like he's ever heard me saying anything else." Keith meets Shiro's gaze.

"Quiet?" he begins, tentatively, squatting down so they're eye-level. "Do you remember what happened five minutes ago?"

Shiro meets his gaze nervously. "I was talking to Hunk. Before that I don't remember, I was unconscious."

"Who is Hunk?" Shiro's breath catches, and a sudden jolt of anxiety pierces his chest, because Keith sounds _so sincere_. There's not a hint of playfulness in his face.

"Hunk?" Shiro responds, pointing to _Hunk,_ sitting right next to him, with his orange headband and leg injury.

"Quit talking nonsense! You know my name, asshole!" Hunk reaches over and grabs Shiro by the collar, shaking his fist.

"That _is_ your name! That's all I've ever called you!" Shiro never expected such a harsh reaction from _Hunk_ , of all people.

"Seidou! Let him go. You're both injured," Keith commands, and Hunk relaxes his grip. "We're _all_ injured, and we hit the surface pretty hard when the ship crashed. I don't think it's out of the question that we all received some sort of concussion, which can cause temporary confusion and memory loss. So Seidou," Keith glares, "cool off. I mean it. Quiet, if you're confused, just ask. We all need to work together if we want to survive." Hunk grumbles an affirmative.

"We found some stuff to make a splint for your leg, Hothead!" Pidge pipes up, holding up pieces of metal and cloth.

"Oh, good job! I can stop sitting around like a baby now." Keith kneels down with Pidge to get to work setting Hunk's leg. Shiro looks away to find Lance staring at him, one eye red and swollen.

"Something wrong?"

"Not at all," he responds hastily, ducking back out of the shelter.

"Hey—!" Shiro makes to follow him but a hand on his shoulder pulls him back.

"Not so fast! We found enough cloth to make a better pressure bandage for your arm, hold still." Keith's firm hand on his bicep holds him in place. Shiro hadn't even realized he was injured, but the pain registers as soon as the blood soaked bandage is peeled away. He feels a puff of hot air on his neck as Keith sighs in relief.

"It looks like the bleeding is starting to slow down, that's good." Shiro barely notices Pidge helping Hunk wobble to his feet and exit the shelter. "I was worried that it was too deep and you were going to bleed out."

"All things considered, I actually don't feel that bad." Shiro's tone is light, and he winces as Keith tightens the new bandage.

"Overall? Or just physically?"

"What—" Keith stands, throwing the old bandage into the dirt with shaking hands.

"Maybe this isn't the time to talk about this, I know we're not out of the woods yet, but I really…" Keith takes a shaky breath. "I was so _worried_ about you in the prison, Takashi. You were all but catatonic, and I just…" He sniffs. "I want to make sure that, if you're not okay, you'll at least talk to me." Shiro can tell that he's fighting back tears and it makes his chest tighten uncomfortably.

"I will, Keith. I promise," and maybe Shiro said the wrong thing because Keith exhales a bubble of laughter.

"Okay, I need to talk to you about that. Where is that coming from?"

"Where is what coming from?" Shiro didn't think what he said was that strange. He'd made promises before, and kept them.

"That's the second time you've called me that, what did that come from?"

"Wait, _Keith?_ You're asking why I'm calling you by name?" Keith moves in suddenly, prying open Shiro's left eyelids and staring intently.

"Maybe you took more damage than we thought…" he mutters, almost to himself, then shakes his head and sits back. "You think my name is Keith."

"Judging by your reaction, I'm starting to think that's not the case." He lets out a quick breath, what might have almost been a laugh.

"No, it's not. Maybe you're feeling disoriented from the concussion, but I'm not going to make fun of you to satisfy my petty anger." He takes both of Shiro's hands and looks him straight in the eyes. "Kogane Akira."

It's a gut-punch, because even with his friends speaking Japanese and being captured by the Galra again, even with the plane crash and his right arm being flesh again, the last person he wanted to be different was Keith.

Hearing him confirm a different name really cements the feeling that something is very _very_ wrong about all of this.

"Takashi?" and his voice breaks Shiro out of his panicked thoughts.

"I…" Shiro swallows thickly. "I don't know what I was expecting, I just… I _really_ thought… " Keith—Akira—regards him seriously.

"...that you were Keith," he finishes lamely.

"I don't know where you got 'Keith' from, honestly. It did piss me off a bit, you remember how long I had to work on you to get you to use my first name." There's a twinge of nostalgia in Akira's eyes that Shiro doesn't share.

"...I, uh, don't. Actually." Shiro feels like a kid caught in a lie, but it's honestly the truth. He doesn't remember Keith— _Akira_ —pestering him to call him such. That faraway look leaves in an instant. Akira frowns.

"You don't—?" he sighs heavily. "...it's probably temporary. None of us are in a good state of mind, we need real medical care."

"I'm guessing you have a plan?"

"I saw a castle before we crashed. Even if no one lives there, it'll be more protected, and a less obvious hiding place." Pidge enters the shelter at that moment—dropping an exhausted Hunk in the sand—and holds up a hand in self-defense.

"I swear I didn't break him, he tired _himself_ out."

Hours later, when the sun passed its peak intensity, the small group made their way toward the mountains in hope of finding the mysterious castle.

By the time it's too dark to see, they've made a small camp in the forest that the mountains bled into. Hunk— _no, it's Seidou_ —starts off a chain of yawns that ends with Shiro volunteering to stay up and keep watch, because he was the only one that _didn't_ yawn.

The camp slips into a pleasant quiet, the crackling of the fire and invisible humming of insects providing a comforting white noise, but Shiro still feels slightly uneasy. A flash of movement at the edge of the firelight makes him jump, but it's just Lance. Shiro doesn't know what his real name is—they didn't speak at all during their trek to the mountains—but his stare is unnerving.

"Is there a problem?" Shiro whispers, and Lance rolls his eyes. He turns over, as if he was going to sleep, and then a few moments later sits back up with a sour expression.

Lance skirts around the campfire and sits directly next to Shiro. He seemingly struggles with his words for a minute or so, and then lets out a heavy sigh.

"I didn't want to say anything in front of the others, but I think I know what's wrong with you." Shiro stiffens. "You think maybe you're concussed, that you just forgot and it'll come back to you in a day or two, that your memory is wrong." Lance swallows, nervously.

"But you have such a _clear_ picture in your head and it's not what's in front of you _._ Everything is familiar, but it's different. Names are different, language is different, people are different. Are you following me?" Shiro nods, suspicious. Lance was talking out every point of anxiety Shiro had been experiencing in the past 48 hours, things he hadn't brought up with anyone.

"I knew it when you called Seidou 'Hunk' today. Maybe this is going to sound crazy, but just… _hear_ me out, okay?"

Shiro nods. "What are you getting at?"

"Okay so, one day you just… you just woke up and noticed things were different, right?" Shiro nods again. Lance scratches the back of his head.

"And you probably think my name is Lance, right?"

"I did, but I'm inclined to think that's wrong, since I didn't remember Akira's name, or Seidou's." Lance looks like he hadn't been expecting that answer.

He fumbles with his next words.

"Yeah, um, geez. I don't really have a better way to say this, but… okay, so, have you ever thought about parallel universes?" Shiro thinks of Beta Traz, of Slav, and the alien's overwhelming fear of his actions affecting alternate realities.

"I'm open to the idea."

"I think you're in one. I've been to one too. At least I think I have. There are memories of you, well, _this_ you, the one from here. Quiet. But you weren't the same, you were someone else." Lance clicks his tongue in frustration, and Shiro realizes he's switched to English. "Everything kind of looked the same, but also different. It was better, there wasn't this much pain. _Ugh_ , I can't find the right _words_ —!"

"You—"

"I know I'm from here, originally. But when I was there I found myself able to understand English." Lance sighs, shifting to lie on his back. "They called me Lance, but there your name was Sven, and you were a foreigner."

"How did you get there? No, wait, how did you get back?" Lance shrugs.

"I just… woke up, here. I thought for the longest time it was some crazy dream, but it was so _real._ And when _you_ came here, I knew it was real. Maybe the other me came back to himself and pushed me out, I don't know. If you want to get back, all you can do is wait, I guess." They're both quiet for a long moment. Shiro runs a hand over his face. He's starting to get a headache.

"I suppose I have no reason to think you're lying," he sighs into his palm. "How do I even process this? That I'm in a parallel universe?"

"By the time I got used to it I came back, so I guess I can only tell you one thing: be honest. Don't try to pretend to be the person who used to be here, you'll just make everything worse." Lance sits up, his expression darkening. "Don't try to be Quiet."

"What? What do you mean, 'don't try to be quiet'?"

"'Quiet' was our nickname for Shirogane. But you're not him, so I'm not going to call you that."

"Oh, so that's— that's why you all kept saying that to me, it wasn't a command."

"No, it wasn't." They sit awkwardly for a minute, until Lance speaks again. "So, what's your name?"

"Takashi Shirogane, but that's the same as Quiet, isn't it? You can call me Shiro. That's what they call me back… wherever I came from." Lance nods, and moves to return to his spot across camp. Shiro stops him.

"Wait, Lance—er…"

"Kurogane. Kurogane Isamu."

"Thank you, Kurogane," he corrects. "The others, do they know about any of this?" Kurogane sighs.

"No, they don't know. After I came back, I tried to talk to Kogane about it, but he just didn't understand." He snorts. "He's actually pretty oblivious when it comes to people. That's why _you_ have to talk to him, let him know you aren't Quiet. I'll tell the others."

"What? Why me? You're from this universe, you know him better than I do."

Kurogane scoffs. "I already told you, he didn't believe me before, and he definitely wouldn't believe me now, especially since it's _you._ "

"What is it about me that's so special?"

Lance—Kurogane—stares at him.

"You haven't _noticed?_ " Shiro shakes his head. "Jeez, you really _are_ thick."

"What are you talking about?" Kurogane manages to take on a haughty expression, even with his swollen eye. He crosses his arms and looks away.

"He's in love with you, idiot." Shiro's mouth hangs open. The words pass through him, his mind blank.

"Well, I guess not _you._ He and Quiet were…. _together._ "

"I— oh…" Shiro doesn't really know what to think. "... that explains a lot, actually." Shiro can't be sure if it's a trick of the light, but he thinks Kurogane might be blushing.

"Well, now you know." Now his voice is haughty too. "I'm going to sleep." He crosses around the fire and settles back in his spot with a huff. Shiro doesn't hear anything for the rest of the night.

What must be a few hours before dawn, Akira wakes and offers to trade watch with Shiro.

"You need to sleep too, you know."

"Okay, okay, you twisted my arm," and the joke makes Akira let out a quiet laugh. It's a little strange, Shiro thinks, that Akira is so easy to talk to. They barely know each other.

Shiro settles on the ground, trying to get comfortable in the dirt. He tries to roll over and lands on his right arm, the deep cut throbbing painfully at the added pressure, and he hisses in pain and sits back up.

"Your arm…?" Akira asks, looking concerned.

"I'm okay, just rolled on top of it." Akira nods and Shiro turns away, his back to the fire to stare out into the darkness of the surrounding forest.

He still can't sleep, and knowing Akira is awake, knowing he's _right there_ fills Shiro with guilt. He should be talking to him, telling him the truth, because Shiro knows the longer he waits to do so the more painful it will be for both of them.

He sits back up.

"Akira, I… I wanted to tell you something." Akira jumps a little at his words, breaking out of his fire-gazing trance.

"What is it?" he asks, scooting closer to Shiro. _So they can speak more quietly,_ he thinks. _Obviously._

"I, uh…" and that's about as far into the conversation as he had planned out. Akira takes his hand, gently, and traces a pattern along the back with his thumb. "Well, I'm… not sure how to say this, but…"

Shiro meets his eyes at that moment and all thoughts fly from his head, because maybe he really has gone crazy, maybe his concussion has gotten worse but he swears in that moment he can see what _Quiet_ must see when he looks at Akira. A person he cares about. A person he loves.

A person he would _never_ want to hurt.

So Shiro chickens out. "I'm glad you're alive."

Akira smiles and squeezes his hand. "Me too. We all made it, and I'll never forget how lucky we've been." He leans forward and presses a kiss to Shiro's cheek.

"Try to get some sleep, Takashi."

Shiro settles in the dirt once more, trying to calm his racing thoughts.

It's like staring into a mirror. The same reflection again, but this time Shiro knows that it's Quiet there, right in front of him, and when he raises his right hand— _metal again_ —Quiet does the same.

"Are you… here? Have you come back?" Quiet shakes his head, and reaches out. Shiro's hand follows, but where he expects to meet Quiet's fingertips there's just… nothing.

An impenetrable barrier between them.

"Something has to happen. Another event, to trigger the change. I can only reach you through dreams." Even Quiet's voice sounds eerily like his own.

"Then…"

"You don't want to be where I am. I can handle it. You need to stay safe, you need to protect Akira. Protect all of them."

"Quiet…"

"Don't worry, Shiro. We'll get through this." His reflection begins to shimmer and fade, and Shiro reaches out, slams his fist against the solid air separating them, and wakes up.

The alien sun cuts blindingly through the treetops, somehow making its way past the canopy to shine directly into Shiro's eyes.

The others are awake already, and Akira insists on changing his arm bandage before they set out. The forest is thick and dark, but Akira keeps pressing on, determined, and Shiro can't help but admire his tenacity. They could be going in the wrong direction, but Akira doesn't doubt himself for a second.

It pays off, and the forest clears to the sight of the old castle, perched on top of a steep hill.

"Be prepared for anything," Akira cautions as they approach the moat. A tall tower straddling the bridge beckons for them to enter, and from the top a statue of a lion stares down at them, shiny black stone contrasting with the blue sky.

Some small part of Shiro thinks that maybe… maybe it's calling to him.

He shakes away those thoughts as they reach the end of the bridge, and it becomes very obvious that the castle is in an extreme state of disrepair. Crumbled battlements litter the once-elegant courtyard with massive stones.

"I didn't realize it was so…" Akira seems shaken.

"Broken? Crappy? A waste of our time?" Kurogane interrupts, kicking a loose stone out of the dirt. "That thing is barely staying together, we can't go _in_ there, one wrong step and it'll crush us!"

"Oi, Moody, we came all this way, we've got to at least check it out." Seidou elbows him.

Akira turns to Shiro. "What do you think we should do?"

He doesn't think they have much of a choice. The Galra are probably still looking for them, and they'll be too vulnerable in the woods. This is the only semi-intact structure they've seen anywhere, and if there are hostile natives inside, three of them can still fight.

"Even if the devil himself lives in that castle, we have to go. We don't have time to hesitate."

He's rewarded with a smile from Akira. "You took the words right out of my mouth, Quiet. Let's go." Akira starts up the long flight of stairs, pulling Seidou along with him and Suzuishi not far behind. Shiro moves to follow them but a hand on his shoulder pulls him back.

"Shiro, what was _that_?" Kurogane hisses. "Kogane called you _Quiet,_ has it really grown on you that much?"

"No, I… He doesn't know yet." Shiro's guilt from the early morning comes rushing back full force, and Kurogane's expression grows more incredulous.

"You haven't _told_ him?!"

"I—I didn't have time—" Shiro sputters, and Kurogane grips his shoulders angrily.

"You had _all night!_ " he squawks, shaking Shiro as if it would make him come to his senses. He pulls out of Kurogane's grip.

"Look, if you're going to insist on making me do this, you don't get to complain about when it happens, okay? Why are you so upset anyways?" Color floods Kurogane's face.

"I—it's none of your concern! We're a team, we have to work together, whatever!" He bolts up the stairs before Shiro can say anymore.

The castle doors open to a dark, musty foyer. It's too dark to see, really, and even darker when the doors suddenly close on their own.

 _It's a trap,_ Shiro thinks. _We walked right into the Galra's hands._

But the old man that appears with a cane and a candlestick seems oddly human.

"I'm not your enemy," he cautions. "We've waited for you for what feels like an eternity."

"Are you with the Galra? Are you here to capture us again?" Akira demands, falling into a defensive stance. The old man spits on the ground.

"The Galra are no friend of Altea. Fifteen years ago they razed this kingdom to the ground for the sake of their _empire,_ and the few of us that survived have gone into hiding. Now that you're here, we can finally begin to fight back."

The rational part of Shiro's brain reminds him that this isn't his reality, that these aren't his friends, but hearing _Altea_ sets him on edge. _This planet is what Allura and Coran lost._

"Why were you waiting for us?" Seidou growls.

"News of rebellion travels fast across the nebula. You five escaped the slave castle right under the emperor's nose! A beacon of hope for those stuck under the thumb of Daibazaal." Shiro can see the old man's hands are trembling, but it's unclear if it's from anxiety or old age.

Kurogane scoffs at the remark. "And what do you expect us to do about it? We're injured and starving, the five of us can't just go storm his castle." The old man's face darkens.

A clear voice rings out from the darkness. "Even in the most dire situations, people find a way to survive."

A young woman appears at the top of the staircase, clad in a shimmering pink dress.

"Princess Fala!" the old man gasps. She descends the staircase, casting a harsh gaze on each of them individually, and when her eyes land on Shiro it shakes him to his core.

He can tell, just from her eyes, that she will kill them if they get in her way.

"Fifteen years ago my parents and my planet were killed by Daibazaal's forces. I have sworn revenge, and with your aid, I will get it."

"Again, why would you want a handful of dehydrated refugees help you fight a war?" Kurogane sounds dismissive. The princess laughs at him.

"It was fate. Had the black lion not chosen you, the crash landing of your ship would have killed you. Something caused it to reactivate, and I intend to use whatever that is to crush the Galra empire and free every planet under its rule."

"The black lion?" Shiro blurts. The princess turns her gaze on him, and Shiro holds it. If Voltron exists in this universe too, then maybe the wormhole technology also exists here. There might be away for him to travel back home.

"You've heard of Golion?" There's the slightest hint of surprise in her voice.

"No, we haven't…" Akira gives Shiro a curious glance. The old man speaks up.

"Golion was a reckless robot, bloodthirsty and desperately hungry for power. It sought out the most powerful beings in the universe to fight, but was never satisfied. In its arrogance, it challenged the goddess of space to battle, and lost. Or so the legend goes." He pauses to heave a rasping cough. The princess lays a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Raible, don't exert yourself." The old man waves off her concern.

"I'm fine, princess." Raible straightens, and tightens his grip on his cane. "The goddess split Golion into five parts, lions of different colors that fell down to Altea. They became guardian deities for the ancient Alteans, and more recently, our only defense against the Galra empire. When Daibazaal attacked, Golion stood its ground until the Galra withdrew. Now that you're here, we can begin to fight back once more." Kurogane clicks his tongue.

"I still don't understand, why would you want five strangers using your most powerful weapon? You don't know anything about us at all! We could be—"

"Hope," the princess interrupts. "You five are the only ones to have survived escaping the slave castle. When word spreads—and it will—that the slaves that escaped the Galra's most fortified prison are piloting the most powerful weapon in the universe, everyone suffering under Daibazaal's rule will know that it is possible to defy him." She levels a sharp glare at Kurogane. "That is why we need you."

His mouth opens and closes like a fish, shocked, before Seidou delivers a swift elbow to his side.

"We don't have much of a choice, Kurogane," Shiro says. "Since we escaped, we're the worst offenders in the empire: traitors. If we don't fight back, we may as well lay down and die."

"Princess, our home planet was destroyed by our own species' greed." Akira clenches his fists. "The Galra gave us no time to mourn before we were captured. We've got nothing of our own left to fight for, so we'll fight for you." He kneels, pressing his fist to his heart. "We'll fight so that this doesn't happen to anyone else."

Shiro kneels as well, and the others follow. It's an oath, he thinks. They've become the knights of a ruthless princess on a phantom planet in a different universe.

He feels something surging through him, an impact resonating in his chest like a cannon blast, and the castle around him spits dust and loose stone as it trembles and creaks with the tremors. The faint scent of ozone reaches his nose.

"They found us," he whispers, and Akira places a steadying hand on his shoulder.

* * *

 _I can't remember! There are infinite possibilities! It's a tiny puddle! I can already feel myself not being able to breathe. My lungs are filling with water._ —Slav, Escape from Beta Traz

A quick guide, surname followed by first name:  
Kurogane Isamu - "Lance"  
Seidou Tsuyoshi - "Hunk"  
Suzuishi Hiroshi- "Pidge"  
Kogane Akira - "Keith"

Pugglemuggle is my rock and I honestly don't know what I'd do without her.  
I'm on tumblr.


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